I have lived and worked in Gilroy for over six years now since
moving from San Jose and, whenever the subject of the Garlic
Festival would come up, I would always smugly proclaim that I have
never been to it. When asked why, I would keep up with the smug
(more often I play at sarcastic and arrogant, but I can work the
smug) and would answer that, from what I can tell, the festival is
hot, crowded, dusty, hard to get to and consists of a day spent
wandering around looking at stuff you don’t plan to buy, and eating
stuff you may regret later. I thought of it as a day at the mall
without air-conditioning.
By John M. Larson
I have lived and worked in Gilroy for over six years now since moving from San Jose and, whenever the subject of the Garlic Festival would come up, I would always smugly proclaim that I have never been to it. When asked why, I would keep up with the smug (more often I play at sarcastic and arrogant, but I can work the smug) and would answer that, from what I can tell, the festival is hot, crowded, dusty, hard to get to and consists of a day spent wandering around looking at stuff you don’t plan to buy, and eating stuff you may regret later. I thought of it as a day at the mall without air-conditioning.
I always knew my holdout would end someday. I knew eventually my wife and kids would decide they wanted to go and see what the fuss was all about. I knew they would break me down like they always do. And, like they always do, my little family worked me over and again got me to do something I was resisting, like camping or going to Disneyland.
This was the year they wanted to go to the world famous Gilroy Garlic Festival, and I reluctantly agreed. My only condition was that we go on Friday and get there early. My plan was to tire them out so we could leave early too.
We live fairly close to Christmas Hill park (but this is Gilroy so pretty much everybody lives close to everything) so I thought it would be silly to try and drive to the Festival to park and take a shuttle when we could walk or ride our bikes faster with a lot less hassle.
Besides, since the parking lots are what I have seen most over the years when driving by on Santa Teresa, I knew there was some truth to my hot and dusty fears. We ended up riding our bikes in on the Uvas Levee trail. That was a pretty sweet way to go. I had checked the Festival website and knew there was a free bicycle storage area set up with attendants who parked your bike and gave you a claim check. Nifty.
I understand that most everybody reading this has been to the Garlic Festival, so this is not a review of the festival. You all know what is there – lots of food stands, big arts and crafts areas to slog through where you try not to frown too much at the offerings, kids’ areas and exhibitions for a variety of stuff. And way too many tank tops.
I am also not going to pretend that I had some sort of Scrooge/Grinch-like epiphany and found the true meaning of garlic.
“I thought the Garlic Festival would be awful, but really it was wonderful and nothing like I ever imagined!”
No. It was hot, it was dusty (but not like it looks in the parking lots), it was crowded. I ate too much, and I got that tired feeling you get from wandering around a store all day with your wife watching her shop and hoping she doesn’t make you to try on pants. It was everything I thought it would be, and I tried to hate it. Just not as much as I wanted to.
Of course the food was good and the family had fun, but I expected that. But there was one thing I didn’t quite expect and it’s something that did soften me up a little on the whole thing.
The thing that got me was the enthusiasm and love of the Festival that I felt from the volunteers. There seemed to be a lot of people volunteering and each and every one seemed to be having the time of their lives. From the people at the bike stand to the gate attendants, the food servers, the helpers wandering around … all of them. They love their festival and they are proud of it.
You can’t help yourself but to love it right along with them. Of course the other attendees are enjoying themselves, too, and that is probably a contributing factor in all the love I was feeling. But the volunteers have such pride in the whole thing that it all seems to stem from their passion to put on a great event and make sure everybody there has a good time. And somehow they manage to pull it all off without a hint of smugness.
Will that enthusiasm be enough to get me back again? I don’t want to commit to anything in writing, but you just might see me there again. I’ll be the one not wearing a tank top.
Guest columnist John Larson is a six-year resident of Gilroy who might be ready to volunteer at the Garlic Festival. Anyone interested in writing a guest column may contact Editor Mark Derry at ed****@****ic.com.
